Page 83 of Storm and Sea

Atreus had no control, no will to keep his chest from cracking open. It was as though the cage guarding his heart unlocked, spread wide and exposing the delicate bead of light that was...him. His pulse thudded heavily in his ears, and the distant echo of an ancient song rang from somewhere inside him— a whale’s hymn.

His skin prickled—not unpleasantly—but with the charged sensation of swimming too close to a voltai eel, electric and teetering on the edge of overwhelming.

And then, he saw it—or thought he did. A golden thread looped in the air around them. It shimmered, twisting and dancing before his eyes. The hair on the back of his neck rose as a shiver tore through him, heart pounding and ears filled with whale song. His fingers twitched at his sides, aching to reach out, though for what, he couldn’t say.

But just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

The glow, the warmth, the connection—it vanished like a brittle glass snapping under pressure, leaving Atreus reeling. He staggered inwardly, the absence of it striking him like the air had been knocked from his lungs. His chest ached with a hollowness he couldn’t name, and tears welled in his eyes, hot and stinging, blurring the sight of Nyel, who was now hastily wiping his eyes.

For a moment, Atreus just stood there, swallowing against the lump rising in his throat. Had Nyel felt it too? For a brief moment, he was tempted to ask.

That golden thread, that impossible, beautiful connection.

Or was it only Atreus foolish enough to believe in something so fleeting? Who’d felt like he was on the edge of something extraordinary, only to watch it slip through his fingers like sand?

The ache twisted as though he’d been struck by a devil ray’s barbed tail. The ocean continued to move around them, indifferent to the loss he could still feel echoing in his bones. Yet as he wracked his brain and blinked away the sting in his eyes, Atreus couldn’t name what it was he’d lost. He bit down on the trembling in his jaw, grinding his teeth.

What… just happened to me?

Nyel took a moment to compose himself, wiping at his eyes repeatedly before letting out an embarrassed chuckle. “Ugh, I’m a mess. It’s been a lot.”

Atreus cleared his throat, shaking himself. “Yeah. A lot.”

“Where did you learn about it? That you were a halfling?” Nyel asked, still pushing at the wetness in his eyes.

“A stranger. I didn’t catch his name. He was a Mer—another halfling like me. He told me that if I showed myself to you, you’d leave. He wanted you home—a relative of yours.”

“Nephi.”

“What?”

“His name is Nephi. And he’s my brother. Well, half-brother.”

Half-brother sounded a lot closer than ‘distant relative,’ as Nephi had called them.

“I take it you don’t have a good relationship.”

Nyel shook his head. Atreus didn’t have to think too hard to guess why.

“I need to fix it—all of it. I’ll do it in front of my parents if I have to. There is nothing wrong with Nephi, besides the fact that he’s an incurable jerk,” Nyel added under his breath. “But it isn’t his fault our dad had an out-of-species relationship. He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“He’s expecting you to run home.”

Nyel huffed. “Well, then he’s in for a surprise. But I am going home.”

Atreus jerked his head, tail splashing.

“Not to stay,” Nyel added quickly, “to make things right. I’m going to tell them everything.”

“I imagine that will be a fun conversation.”

Nyel laughed with a nervous hiccup. “Yes. Super fun. They won’t take it well, but I don’t care.”

“Even when you tell them you’re hanging out with a halfling?”

Atreus knew Nyel’s parents would react poorly to the news. They’d tell him Atreus was dangerous. That Nyel was an idiot for being so close to a monster. Would Nyel listen to them? They were his parents, after all. What if they convinced him Atreus really was a freak? What if they persuaded him to stay home?

“Especially then,” Nyel said, and Atreus took comfort in the determined resolve in his voice. Nyel faced him, mouth set in a severe line. “I’m on your side, Atreus. Please believe me.”